


Playing it Straight

by Karasuno Volleygays (ToBeOrNotToBeAGryffindor)



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: First Year Akaashi, Gen, Nothing straight about him but his spikes, second year bokuto
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-06-12
Updated: 2016-06-12
Packaged: 2018-07-14 14:07:36
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,104
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7174946
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ToBeOrNotToBeAGryffindor/pseuds/Karasuno%20Volleygays
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Bokuto can't hit crosses anymore and can't score to save his life until a quiet, calm voice steers him in the right direction.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Playing it Straight

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Volleynerds (ButterflyCrossing)](https://archiveofourown.org/users/ButterflyCrossing/gifts).



> This is for the ever beauteous Stormageddon-chan on her birthday. Have some Bokuaka fluff because Bokuaka fluff.

Over and over, second year Bokuto slams the ball to the other side of the court to erase the dull thud of that block from his brain. That knowing smile of his opponent when they see that Bokuto is riled and losing his cool. The shrinking, dying court of his cross spike as it dribbles to the floor on the wrong side of the net.

“Damn it!” Bokuto bellows as his serve goes way wide and hits the pole, sending the ball scudding back in his direction. He catches it and throws it across the net. “I said go over there!”

From the locker room, Konoha, the last teammate who had deigned to stay late to practice with hi, pokes his head out. “Dude, just go home. You’re not going to get anything done when you’re like this.”

“I’ll get it!” Bokuto cries as he executes another serve — the only thing he can do by himself that involves sweating and wearing himself out enough to sleep away this malaise — only for this one to hit the net.

From behind him, a soft voice calls out, “You could just try hitting straights, Bokuto-san.”

Turning around, Bokuto sees one of the first years with his bag over his shoulder standing next to Konoha. Akaashi?

Konoha shakes his head. “Dude, don’t go down that road. He’ll make you practice and you’ll never —”

“Akaashi~” Bokuto cries as he sprints towards his target. “Please toss for me! I’ll hit as many straights as you want.”

“— get out of here,” Konoha finishes with a sigh. “Up to you, but once he’s got you in his sights, kid, you’re not getting out.”

Something resembling a smirk crosses Akaashi’s face, and it gives Bokuto the chills. This guy means business.

As he pulls on his shoes, Akaashi gives Bokuto a nod, and there is no longer a question about who will succeed their current setter when the seniors retire after the Inter-Highs.

Ball after ball, Akaashi sends perfect sets to Bokuto until the ball slaps down a mere hair’s breadth from the line each time it’s hit. Over and over, until both of their stomachs howl in mourning of their missed dinners, they repeat until even Bokuto slumps against the net pole and wheezes, “I think that’s enough.”

Akaashi mops a drizzle of sweat from his forehead and nods. “You can do it, Bokuto-san. By the time they stop focusing only on your crosses, they won’t know what to do about the straights and will have to block you normally. Then your opportunities will open up so you can do either at will.”

Bokuto’s jaw drops at the amount of thought that this underclassman has put into a player he won’t be able to set foot on the court with in an official game for a year. “You’re really something, Akaashi.”

With that, he throws an arm around Akaashi’s shoulder and chirps, “Now, let’s get some food or I’m going to die. My treat!”

“Thank you, Bokuto-san.” Cheeks pink, Akaashi ducks away from Bokuto’s grasp. “I should get home, though.”

Bokuto’s face falls just a little before one last idea hits him. “How about a meat bun, then? You can get one for the road, and I can pay you back for being the best kouhai ever.”

“All right, Bokuto-san.” Akaashi steps a little closer to Bokuto and gives him a nod. “But next time, how about we not practice so late?”

Knowing it’s a promise he’ll never keep, Bokuto grins and says, “You got it.”

 

* * *

 

No one expects food poisoning, but when it strikes half of Fukurodani’s starting line-up right before the quarterfinals of the Inter-highs, the entire team is thrown into disarray.

That is except Bokuto, who sees Akaashi don the Number 5 jersey for the first time while Bokuto tries on the storied 4, the ace number, for the first time.

“Looks good on you, man,” Bokuto notes as he pats the number on Akaashi’s back.

Akaashi gives him a nod. “Same to you, Bokuto-san.” He takes a deep breath, and that’s when Bokuto notices he’s sweating before warm-ups have even begun.

“You okay?”

Hands clenching over and over, Akaashi nods. “Yeah, I’ll get there. I just don’t want to mess up this chance. How else am I supposed to take Horio-san’s position?”

At Akaashi’s boldly proclaimed intent, Bokuto laughs until tears stream from his eyes. “If that’s the case, then you got nothing to worry about.”

They take the court, absorbing the clamor of curiosity as the crowd takes in the unfamiliar line-up decked out in familiar numbers.

On the other side of the net, a different face carries the same smile of contempt as Bokuto lines up. “Looks like Mr. Cross is back in business.”

Bokuto jabs his thumb at his chest and says, “Yep, that’s me. Nothing straight about this guy!”

“Dude!” Konoha hisses under his breath as he covers his ears. “Think before you speak.”

“Nah, that’s your thing.” He leans forward as Akaashi, who guffaws behind him, prepares to serve. “I’ll just live in the moment.”

Akaashi’s serve is received badly, being sent over the net for a chance ball. Konoha receives it, sending it to the setter’s spot with ease. “Akaashi!”

Bokuto glances at Akaashi, who gives him the slightest nod, and he knows it’s time to shut all these guys up.

The set is perfect, the run up timed just right, and the ball hits the floor with a bellowing _slap_ as the opponent stares in disbelief at the gaping hole in their defense. Bokuto turns and stares at Akaashi, hears roar from the crowd and from the person who has worked the hardest for him as they fly into each other’s arms in victory.

“It’s just one point,” the other team’s middle blocker scoffs as he resets. “It’s not like you just won the game.”

Opposite him, Konoha snorts. “Man, you have no idea what he just won. Now get back in your spot, because the ace is in the house.”

Bokuto doesn’t hear it, though, as he watches Akaashi accept the ball rolled under the net and go back behind the service line. He only has eyes for one person. The one who changed everything.

There are few moments Bokuto ever holds stock in as life-changing, and the moment he knows who he wants by his side until he graduates is one of them. And Akaashi Keiji is indeed by his side until that time, as his setter, his friend, and then his vice-captain as he takes his team to Nationals because Tokyo isn’t big enough for them to conquer.

 


End file.
